ADAM'S FUNNY BONE

When Solomon Eusebius Josephus Alfred JonesWas asked to give a lecture on the origin of bonesHe solemnly declared to all the story was not trueThat Eve was made from Adam's rib, since he, the learned, knewThat woman, who is all the cause of trouble on the earthYet rules the world and all mankind lo, from her very birth,Was made by the Creator great from Adam's funny bone,And that is why she giggles so when men are wont to groan.

When Solomon Eusebius Josephus Alfred Jones

Was asked to give a lecture on the origin of bones

He solemnly declared to all the story was not true

That Eve was made from Adam's rib, since he, the learned, knew

That woman, who is all the cause of trouble on the earth

Yet rules the world and all mankind lo, from her very birth,

Was made by the Creator great from Adam's funny bone,

And that is why she giggles so when men are wont to groan.

QUEEN OF FLOWERHOOD

Ah, rose, sweet rose, majestic flower,To rule as queen thou hast the power.Within the realms of FlowerhoodIn gardens, fields and in the wood.Your sweetest perfume, Mother Earth,For your first gift gave at your birth.Your velvet touch she gave to you,Your graceful form and varied hue.But for thy beauty thou dost payBy bringing joy on life's pathway.You cheer the sick, console the sadAnd make us mortals all feel glad.

Ah, rose, sweet rose, majestic flower,

To rule as queen thou hast the power.

Within the realms of Flowerhood

In gardens, fields and in the wood.

Your sweetest perfume, Mother Earth,

For your first gift gave at your birth.

Your velvet touch she gave to you,

Your graceful form and varied hue.

But for thy beauty thou dost payBy bringing joy on life's pathway.You cheer the sick, console the sadAnd make us mortals all feel glad.

But for thy beauty thou dost pay

By bringing joy on life's pathway.

You cheer the sick, console the sad

And make us mortals all feel glad.

NORTH POLE JINGLE

[To the Tune of "London Bridge Is Falling Down."]

To the North Pole we will go, we will go, we will go,On a dog sledge o'er the snow, over the white snow.There we'll see an Esquimau, Esquimau, Esquimau,Sitting in his house of snow, in his house of snow.And maybe a big polar bear, polar bear, polar bear,With huge claws and long white hair, huge claws and white hair.Walrus, reindeer, seal live there, seal live there, seal live there,They think their land is wondrous fair, oh, so wondrous fair.

To the North Pole we will go, we will go, we will go,On a dog sledge o'er the snow, over the white snow.

To the North Pole we will go, we will go, we will go,

On a dog sledge o'er the snow, over the white snow.

There we'll see an Esquimau, Esquimau, Esquimau,Sitting in his house of snow, in his house of snow.

There we'll see an Esquimau, Esquimau, Esquimau,

Sitting in his house of snow, in his house of snow.

And maybe a big polar bear, polar bear, polar bear,With huge claws and long white hair, huge claws and white hair.

And maybe a big polar bear, polar bear, polar bear,

With huge claws and long white hair, huge claws and white hair.

Walrus, reindeer, seal live there, seal live there, seal live there,They think their land is wondrous fair, oh, so wondrous fair.

Walrus, reindeer, seal live there, seal live there, seal live there,

They think their land is wondrous fair, oh, so wondrous fair.

AN EATABLE ALPHABET

A for APPLE BUTTER stands,B for BEANS known in all lands,C for CHOW-CHOW, oh, how good!D for DILL has ever stood,E for EUCHRED PICKLES fine,F for FIGS for which we pine,G for GHERKINS to our taste,H HORSERADISH none would waste,I for INDIA RELISH sweet,J for JELLIES none can beat,K for KETCHUP for gods fit,L for LADIES who make it.M for MINCEMEAT that doth please,N for NEW VARIETIES,O for ONIONS that won't spoil,P for PUREST OLIVE OIL.Q QUEEN OLIVES we adore,R for RELISH we cry more,S for SOUP and SAUERKRAUT,T TOMATO SAUCE we shout!U for ALL WHO LOVE TO EATHEINZ DISHES NON COMPETE.V for VINEGAR, the boss,W WORCESTERSHIRE'S great sauce.All the letters used you seeExcept L, N, U, X, Y, Z.And soon these letters Heinz will seizeTo use for NEW VARIETIES.The FIFTY-SEVENS' home will thenGive place to GREAT ONE HUNDRED TEN.

A for APPLE BUTTER stands,

B for BEANS known in all lands,

C for CHOW-CHOW, oh, how good!

D for DILL has ever stood,

E for EUCHRED PICKLES fine,

F for FIGS for which we pine,

G for GHERKINS to our taste,

H HORSERADISH none would waste,

I for INDIA RELISH sweet,

J for JELLIES none can beat,

K for KETCHUP for gods fit,

L for LADIES who make it.

M for MINCEMEAT that doth please,

N for NEW VARIETIES,

O for ONIONS that won't spoil,

P for PUREST OLIVE OIL.

Q QUEEN OLIVES we adore,

R for RELISH we cry more,

S for SOUP and SAUERKRAUT,

T TOMATO SAUCE we shout!

U for ALL WHO LOVE TO EAT

HEINZ DISHES NON COMPETE.

V for VINEGAR, the boss,

W WORCESTERSHIRE'S great sauce.

All the letters used you see

Except L, N, U, X, Y, Z.

And soon these letters Heinz will seize

To use for NEW VARIETIES.

The FIFTY-SEVENS' home will then

Give place to GREAT ONE HUNDRED TEN.

AT EASTER

As Easter breathes hope for a joyous to-morrowE'en out of the depths of despair,So may this day banish from you every sorrowAnd make you feel free as the air.While hearing grand anthems that swell to the sky,And breathing sweet lilies' perfume,May you feel assured that your soul will not dieAs life does not end in the tomb.

As Easter breathes hope for a joyous to-morrowE'en out of the depths of despair,So may this day banish from you every sorrowAnd make you feel free as the air.

As Easter breathes hope for a joyous to-morrow

E'en out of the depths of despair,

So may this day banish from you every sorrow

And make you feel free as the air.

While hearing grand anthems that swell to the sky,And breathing sweet lilies' perfume,May you feel assured that your soul will not dieAs life does not end in the tomb.

While hearing grand anthems that swell to the sky,

And breathing sweet lilies' perfume,

May you feel assured that your soul will not die

As life does not end in the tomb.

THE GIRLS' ALPHABET

A for Adaline, so neat,B for Bess, so clean and neatC for Clara, always gay,D for Doris, full of play.E for Edith, with blue eyesF for Flora, very wise.G for Gertrude, called the good,H for Helen, ever stood.I for Ida, laughing maid,J for Jenny, staunch and staid.K for Kate, with golden locks,L for Lucy, who wears socks.M for Margaret, so straight,N for Nell, who's never late.O for Olive, always clean,P for Polly, full of spleen.Q for Queenie, who rules all,R for Rhoda, straight and tall.S for Sally, naughty girl,T for Thelma, mother's pearl.U for Ursula, the fair,V for Vida, with black hair.W for Winnie stands,X for Xenia, of far lands.Y for Yoda, funny name,Z for Zoe, who ends our game.

A for Adaline, so neat,

B for Bess, so clean and neat

C for Clara, always gay,

D for Doris, full of play.

E for Edith, with blue eyes

F for Flora, very wise.

G for Gertrude, called the good,

H for Helen, ever stood.

I for Ida, laughing maid,

J for Jenny, staunch and staid.

K for Kate, with golden locks,

L for Lucy, who wears socks.

M for Margaret, so straight,

N for Nell, who's never late.

O for Olive, always clean,

P for Polly, full of spleen.

Q for Queenie, who rules all,

R for Rhoda, straight and tall.

S for Sally, naughty girl,

T for Thelma, mother's pearl.

U for Ursula, the fair,

V for Vida, with black hair.

W for Winnie stands,

X for Xenia, of far lands.

Y for Yoda, funny name,

Z for Zoe, who ends our game.

TO MY LEAP YEAR VALENTINE

Saint Bridget in the long agoWon for all maids the right to goOnce in four years and seek a beau.This year is leap year, as you know,But as I've many a lovely bowIn quest of one I will not go.But your dear image I enshrineWithin my heart, sweet valentine.Have you a little place for mine?

Saint Bridget in the long agoWon for all maids the right to goOnce in four years and seek a beau.

Saint Bridget in the long ago

Won for all maids the right to go

Once in four years and seek a beau.

This year is leap year, as you know,But as I've many a lovely bowIn quest of one I will not go.

This year is leap year, as you know,

But as I've many a lovely bow

In quest of one I will not go.

But your dear image I enshrineWithin my heart, sweet valentine.Have you a little place for mine?

But your dear image I enshrine

Within my heart, sweet valentine.

Have you a little place for mine?

I'M GLAD I'M NOT AN EXO

[One of Doctor M. V. O'Shea's Stories Jingled.]

The framework of the body isThe bones, so teachers say;And if we didn't have 'emOur shape it wouldn't stay.Besides sans bones my liverAnd brains and even heartWould get some awful hurtin'sAnd maybe come apart.If my poor bones were badly burnedAll brittle I would be,Since flames will kill the animalThat was born in me;If I were soaked in acidNo tender sapling treeWould be one-half so limberAs just poor little me.But, thinking it all over,If I should choose my fateI'd rather soak in acidThan burn in a hot grate.Some of my bones, the wise men say,Are very far apart,While others cling togetherLike jelly in a tart.That is because the bones have joints,And joints are good to have,They help me be a pitcherAnd save me lots of salve.When all my bones are gatheredAnd put in their right placeThey make a so-called skeleton,A grinnin' in his face.But if you leave out one small boneOr put one in not right,It won't be any skeleton,But a big bony fright.The Exo critters' skeletonsAre placed on the outside,I'm glad I'm not an EXO,For if my Jane espiedMe lookin' like the skeletonThat's shown on teacher's chart,I know she'd turn her nose right upAnd say that we must part.

The framework of the body is

The bones, so teachers say;

And if we didn't have 'em

Our shape it wouldn't stay.

Besides sans bones my liver

And brains and even heart

Would get some awful hurtin's

And maybe come apart.

If my poor bones were badly burned

All brittle I would be,

Since flames will kill the animal

That was born in me;

If I were soaked in acid

No tender sapling tree

Would be one-half so limber

As just poor little me.

But, thinking it all over,

If I should choose my fate

I'd rather soak in acid

Than burn in a hot grate.

Some of my bones, the wise men say,Are very far apart,While others cling togetherLike jelly in a tart.That is because the bones have joints,And joints are good to have,They help me be a pitcherAnd save me lots of salve.

Some of my bones, the wise men say,

Are very far apart,

While others cling together

Like jelly in a tart.

That is because the bones have joints,

And joints are good to have,

They help me be a pitcher

And save me lots of salve.

When all my bones are gatheredAnd put in their right placeThey make a so-called skeleton,A grinnin' in his face.But if you leave out one small boneOr put one in not right,It won't be any skeleton,But a big bony fright.

When all my bones are gathered

And put in their right place

They make a so-called skeleton,

A grinnin' in his face.

But if you leave out one small bone

Or put one in not right,

It won't be any skeleton,

But a big bony fright.

The Exo critters' skeletonsAre placed on the outside,I'm glad I'm not an EXO,For if my Jane espiedMe lookin' like the skeletonThat's shown on teacher's chart,I know she'd turn her nose right upAnd say that we must part.

The Exo critters' skeletons

Are placed on the outside,

I'm glad I'm not an EXO,

For if my Jane espied

Me lookin' like the skeleton

That's shown on teacher's chart,

I know she'd turn her nose right up

And say that we must part.

THREE CHEERS FOR TYPEWRITERS

Three cheers! the joyful children criedWhen fierce and raging flames they spiedDestroying spellers, cause of woes,And grammars, children's hated foes!Three cheers again we hear them say,The typewriters have come to stay,To teach us all to read and spellAnd punctuate so very well.

Three cheers! the joyful children criedWhen fierce and raging flames they spiedDestroying spellers, cause of woes,And grammars, children's hated foes!

Three cheers! the joyful children cried

When fierce and raging flames they spied

Destroying spellers, cause of woes,

And grammars, children's hated foes!

Three cheers again we hear them say,The typewriters have come to stay,To teach us all to read and spellAnd punctuate so very well.

Three cheers again we hear them say,

The typewriters have come to stay,

To teach us all to read and spell

And punctuate so very well.

THE WORLD'S A MIRROR

If to the world we give our bestOf heart and soul and mind,The world will render back to usThe best of every kindOf thoughts and words and deeds of loveWhich let us live on plains aboveThe sordid, ugly roads of lifeBefouled with mud of hate and strife.For life is but a mirror brightWhich smiles when we would smileAnd tells us with a happy faceThat everything's worth while,But if we frown she frowns at usAnd stirs up such a dreadful fussIn all our ether rays aroundThat JOY for us cannot be found.If we but fill our aura roundWith brightest rays of loveFor every little living thingThen we will win Peace Dove,To safely guard us where we goSo we can never have a foe,Since all will see our bright rays shineAs part of the Great Love Divine.

If to the world we give our best

Of heart and soul and mind,

The world will render back to us

The best of every kind

Of thoughts and words and deeds of love

Which let us live on plains above

The sordid, ugly roads of life

Befouled with mud of hate and strife.

For life is but a mirror brightWhich smiles when we would smileAnd tells us with a happy faceThat everything's worth while,But if we frown she frowns at usAnd stirs up such a dreadful fussIn all our ether rays aroundThat JOY for us cannot be found.

For life is but a mirror bright

Which smiles when we would smile

And tells us with a happy face

That everything's worth while,

But if we frown she frowns at us

And stirs up such a dreadful fuss

In all our ether rays around

That JOY for us cannot be found.

If we but fill our aura roundWith brightest rays of loveFor every little living thingThen we will win Peace Dove,To safely guard us where we goSo we can never have a foe,Since all will see our bright rays shineAs part of the Great Love Divine.

If we but fill our aura round

With brightest rays of love

For every little living thing

Then we will win Peace Dove,

To safely guard us where we go

So we can never have a foe,

Since all will see our bright rays shine

As part of the Great Love Divine.

A MEMORY JOGGER FOR YOUR DESK

The wicked IMP called I FORGOTTo mortals ever woes has broughtBy washing from their mental slateEngagement dates—until too late,These mortals waken in dismayAnd we won't quote the things they say.But if you'll keep ME ever near,Bad "I FORGOT" cannot appearFor I will help you to rememberFrom January through DecemberEvery promise, every date,So "I FORGOT" can't make you late.

The wicked IMP called I FORGOTTo mortals ever woes has broughtBy washing from their mental slateEngagement dates—until too late,These mortals waken in dismayAnd we won't quote the things they say.

The wicked IMP called I FORGOT

To mortals ever woes has brought

By washing from their mental slate

Engagement dates—until too late,

These mortals waken in dismay

And we won't quote the things they say.

But if you'll keep ME ever near,Bad "I FORGOT" cannot appearFor I will help you to rememberFrom January through DecemberEvery promise, every date,So "I FORGOT" can't make you late.

But if you'll keep ME ever near,

Bad "I FORGOT" cannot appear

For I will help you to remember

From January through December

Every promise, every date,

So "I FORGOT" can't make you late.

WILMINGTON'S SANTA CLAUS

In far away AlaskaBy all it is believedThat Santa is a big white bearFrom whom gifts are received.And Wilmington's wee kiddiesBegin to think the same,That a good BEAR is Santa—At least that's Santa's name.For when they need a playground,A school, or book, or toy,'Tis SAMUEL BEAR who grants each wishAnd makes kids dance for joy.So let all of us childrenInvoke the powers aboveTo grant him long life, health and wealth,And gratitude and love.

In far away AlaskaBy all it is believedThat Santa is a big white bearFrom whom gifts are received.

In far away Alaska

By all it is believed

That Santa is a big white bear

From whom gifts are received.

And Wilmington's wee kiddiesBegin to think the same,That a good BEAR is Santa—At least that's Santa's name.

And Wilmington's wee kiddies

Begin to think the same,

That a good BEAR is Santa—

At least that's Santa's name.

For when they need a playground,A school, or book, or toy,'Tis SAMUEL BEAR who grants each wishAnd makes kids dance for joy.

For when they need a playground,

A school, or book, or toy,

'Tis SAMUEL BEAR who grants each wish

And makes kids dance for joy.

So let all of us childrenInvoke the powers aboveTo grant him long life, health and wealth,And gratitude and love.

So let all of us children

Invoke the powers above

To grant him long life, health and wealth,

And gratitude and love.

WILMINGTON'S GOOD FAIRY

There's a Santy in good Wilmington,And a good fairy too,Who brings all comforts to the poorAnd proves a friend so trueTo all the poor and needy,Both the big and small.He's always willing, readyTo help them one and all—With kind words and with money,With deeds of love and smilesHe helps men on Life's journeyTo cross old Trouble's stiles.And to this real live FairyThe noble knight JAMES SPRUNTLiving in old WilmingtonOn the street called FrontI dedicate this little songAnd wish him every joyIn the melting pot of lifeWithout dread Woe's alloy.

There's a Santy in good Wilmington,

And a good fairy too,

Who brings all comforts to the poor

And proves a friend so true

To all the poor and needy,

Both the big and small.

He's always willing, ready

To help them one and all—

With kind words and with money,

With deeds of love and smiles

He helps men on Life's journey

To cross old Trouble's stiles.

And to this real live Fairy

The noble knight JAMES SPRUNT

Living in old Wilmington

On the street called Front

I dedicate this little song

And wish him every joy

In the melting pot of life

Without dread Woe's alloy.

MOTHER WOTSAT, OF WANAMAKERLAND

Of MOTHER WOTSAT you've heard tellAnd if you've met this lovely belle,You know she is not an old dameWrinkled, humpbacked, sadly lame.Ah, no, she is a fine young maidWho puts her sisters in the shadeWith sparkling eyes and sylph-like form,No wonder for her heart men storm.But best of all, she has the artTo win each naughty kiddie's heartBy telling tales in rhyme and proseSuch tales as only WOTSAT knows.And she is, oh, so very wise;She answers kids of every sizeWhen they call out, "Wotsat, and why?"She never passes questions by.For she knows well just how to findAnswers for each thirsty mind,And BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE FAIRY WELLIs at her hand, great truths to tell.

Of MOTHER WOTSAT you've heard tellAnd if you've met this lovely belle,You know she is not an old dameWrinkled, humpbacked, sadly lame.

Of MOTHER WOTSAT you've heard tell

And if you've met this lovely belle,

You know she is not an old dame

Wrinkled, humpbacked, sadly lame.

Ah, no, she is a fine young maidWho puts her sisters in the shadeWith sparkling eyes and sylph-like form,No wonder for her heart men storm.

Ah, no, she is a fine young maid

Who puts her sisters in the shade

With sparkling eyes and sylph-like form,

No wonder for her heart men storm.

But best of all, she has the artTo win each naughty kiddie's heartBy telling tales in rhyme and proseSuch tales as only WOTSAT knows.

But best of all, she has the art

To win each naughty kiddie's heart

By telling tales in rhyme and prose

Such tales as only WOTSAT knows.

And she is, oh, so very wise;She answers kids of every sizeWhen they call out, "Wotsat, and why?"She never passes questions by.

And she is, oh, so very wise;

She answers kids of every size

When they call out, "Wotsat, and why?"

She never passes questions by.

For she knows well just how to findAnswers for each thirsty mind,And BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE FAIRY WELLIs at her hand, great truths to tell.

For she knows well just how to find

Answers for each thirsty mind,

And BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE FAIRY WELL

Is at her hand, great truths to tell.

TITANIA'S TOYLAND

Of fairies I've heard since the day of my birth,Toystore makers, and givers of mirth;But ne'er have I gazed on a real fairy-landTill I came to Sterns' store—Titania's stand.And there, as I entered, there burst on my viewA wonderful, marvelous, gigantic zooWith camels and horses and elephants big,Monkeys and donkeys, and even a pig,Lions and tigers and great woolly bearsLooking as real as if in their lairs.There were dolls of all nations and dolls of each size,With black, brown and hazel, and even gray eyes.There were balls big and little, wonderful toysTo please all the children, both good girls and boys;For within Sterns' fairy-land we can all findTitania's toys—of just every kind.

Of fairies I've heard since the day of my birth,Toystore makers, and givers of mirth;But ne'er have I gazed on a real fairy-landTill I came to Sterns' store—Titania's stand.

Of fairies I've heard since the day of my birth,

Toystore makers, and givers of mirth;

But ne'er have I gazed on a real fairy-land

Till I came to Sterns' store—Titania's stand.

And there, as I entered, there burst on my viewA wonderful, marvelous, gigantic zooWith camels and horses and elephants big,Monkeys and donkeys, and even a pig,Lions and tigers and great woolly bearsLooking as real as if in their lairs.

And there, as I entered, there burst on my view

A wonderful, marvelous, gigantic zoo

With camels and horses and elephants big,

Monkeys and donkeys, and even a pig,

Lions and tigers and great woolly bears

Looking as real as if in their lairs.

There were dolls of all nations and dolls of each size,With black, brown and hazel, and even gray eyes.There were balls big and little, wonderful toysTo please all the children, both good girls and boys;For within Sterns' fairy-land we can all findTitania's toys—of just every kind.

There were dolls of all nations and dolls of each size,

With black, brown and hazel, and even gray eyes.

There were balls big and little, wonderful toys

To please all the children, both good girls and boys;

For within Sterns' fairy-land we can all find

Titania's toys—of just every kind.

THE FAIRY CENTAPHRASE

If you would learn to speak good FrenchWithout each awful ruleThat all the would-be Frencheys useWhen they attend French school,Then seek the FAIRY CENTAPHRASEHe'll teach you how to sayJust everything you want to knowAnd in the proper way.Through his delightful training boxAlmost within a weekThe best of French expressionsYou will learn to speakAnd ask for all the goodiesOn menu cards we seeWith just the proper accentFor breakfast, dinner, tea.Through CENTAPHRASE, great system,You may make your ownThe ever dreaded idiomsTo a Frenchman known,By carrying in your pocketWithin a small neat caseA few for your digestionAs you go any place.

If you would learn to speak good French

Without each awful rule

That all the would-be Frencheys use

When they attend French school,

Then seek the FAIRY CENTAPHRASE

He'll teach you how to say

Just everything you want to know

And in the proper way.

Through his delightful training boxAlmost within a weekThe best of French expressionsYou will learn to speakAnd ask for all the goodiesOn menu cards we seeWith just the proper accentFor breakfast, dinner, tea.

Through his delightful training box

Almost within a week

The best of French expressions

You will learn to speak

And ask for all the goodies

On menu cards we see

With just the proper accent

For breakfast, dinner, tea.

Through CENTAPHRASE, great system,You may make your ownThe ever dreaded idiomsTo a Frenchman known,By carrying in your pocketWithin a small neat caseA few for your digestionAs you go any place.

Through CENTAPHRASE, great system,

You may make your own

The ever dreaded idioms

To a Frenchman known,

By carrying in your pocket

Within a small neat case

A few for your digestion

As you go any place.

THE CHILDREN'S PRAYER

GODDESS PEACE, most gracious,Give heed unto the prayerOf all the little childrenWho cry from everywhere,And beg that you come quicklyTo banish hateful WAR,Whose bloody deeds barbaricThe children all abhor!Oh, gladly we'll work with youBy loving one and allDear children of all races,Of nations great and small.And we all hope to bring on earthYour messenger, PEACE-DOVE,Through throwing out our ether raysOF UNIVERSAL LOVE.

GODDESS PEACE, most gracious,

Give heed unto the prayer

Of all the little children

Who cry from everywhere,

And beg that you come quickly

To banish hateful WAR,

Whose bloody deeds barbaric

The children all abhor!

Oh, gladly we'll work with youBy loving one and allDear children of all races,Of nations great and small.And we all hope to bring on earthYour messenger, PEACE-DOVE,Through throwing out our ether raysOF UNIVERSAL LOVE.

Oh, gladly we'll work with you

By loving one and all

Dear children of all races,

Of nations great and small.

And we all hope to bring on earth

Your messenger, PEACE-DOVE,

Through throwing out our ether rays

OF UNIVERSAL LOVE.

AN ODE TO A FAITHFUL DOG DUBBED PICKLES

[Best Friend of Mr. Thomas Shipp, Washington, D. C.]

Not half so cute is any maidAs PICKLES.He puts us all deep in the shade,Does PICKLES.For though he boasts of years not fourTo canine heights he well can soarOn wings he's found in Knowledge-Store,Wise PICKLES.He always has a wagging tail,KIND PICKLES.His Master Shipp he'll never fail,Staunch PICKLES.And that is why all folks who meetThis clever dog in home or streetDeclare there is no one so sweetAS PICKLES.

Not half so cute is any maid

As PICKLES.

He puts us all deep in the shade,

Does PICKLES.

For though he boasts of years not four

To canine heights he well can soar

On wings he's found in Knowledge-Store,

Wise PICKLES.

He always has a wagging tail,KIND PICKLES.His Master Shipp he'll never fail,Staunch PICKLES.And that is why all folks who meetThis clever dog in home or streetDeclare there is no one so sweetAS PICKLES.

He always has a wagging tail,

KIND PICKLES.

His Master Shipp he'll never fail,

Staunch PICKLES.

And that is why all folks who meet

This clever dog in home or street

Declare there is no one so sweet

AS PICKLES.

PEACE FORERUNNER—"LOVE MANKIND."

Little birdie, whispering here,Tell me, does sweet peace draw near?Little girl, I sadly fearPeace will not bring Christmas cheerWhile you mortals are so blindTo love your country, not your kind,Peace can never dwell on earth,Bringing comfort, joy and mirth,Until UNIVERSAL LOVEPaves the way for sweet Peace Dove.Then, sweet bird, help me to bearYour good message everywhere,Begging friends to keep in mindPEACE FORERUNNER—"LOVE MANKIND."

Little birdie, whispering here,Tell me, does sweet peace draw near?

Little birdie, whispering here,

Tell me, does sweet peace draw near?

Little girl, I sadly fearPeace will not bring Christmas cheerWhile you mortals are so blindTo love your country, not your kind,Peace can never dwell on earth,Bringing comfort, joy and mirth,Until UNIVERSAL LOVEPaves the way for sweet Peace Dove.

Little girl, I sadly fear

Peace will not bring Christmas cheer

While you mortals are so blind

To love your country, not your kind,

Peace can never dwell on earth,

Bringing comfort, joy and mirth,

Until UNIVERSAL LOVE

Paves the way for sweet Peace Dove.

Then, sweet bird, help me to bearYour good message everywhere,Begging friends to keep in mindPEACE FORERUNNER—"LOVE MANKIND."

Then, sweet bird, help me to bear

Your good message everywhere,

Begging friends to keep in mind

PEACE FORERUNNER—"LOVE MANKIND."

MUSIC

[These musical jingles were written for my teacher, Miss Matilda Orr Hays, of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.]

There's music, music everywhereOn sea and land and in the air.It sounds from all things far and nearAnd brings the weary rest and cheer.'Tis in the rose and every flower;'Tis in the storm and gentle shower;'Tis in the waters of the brookAnd every pleasant shady nook.We hear its notes within the treesAnd in the hum of busy bees.'Tis in the song of every birdAnd in the voice of woman heard.But best of all 'tis in our heartsAnd there Love's message it imparts,For MUSIC is the tongue of Love,The fairest gift from realms above.

There's music, music everywhere

On sea and land and in the air.

It sounds from all things far and near

And brings the weary rest and cheer.

'Tis in the rose and every flower;

'Tis in the storm and gentle shower;

'Tis in the waters of the brook

And every pleasant shady nook.

We hear its notes within the trees

And in the hum of busy bees.

'Tis in the song of every bird

And in the voice of woman heard.

But best of all 'tis in our hearts

And there Love's message it imparts,

For MUSIC is the tongue of Love,

The fairest gift from realms above.

ROBERT FRANZ

[1815-1892.]

By sweet love, the angel's gift,Was Robert Franz inspiredTo write sweet songs of home and loveOf which we're never tired.Since Schubert's time no other manProduced sweet songs so manyAnd for a number of these songsHe did not get a penny.Songs two hundred seventy-nineThis music genius wroteBut ere he died like BeethovenHe could not hear a note.And with his right arm paralyzedHe could not even playAnd Liszt for him gave concertsTo keep the wolf away.He died in abject poverty,From grief almost insaneBut left his songs to cheer usAnd drive away our pain.

By sweet love, the angel's gift,Was Robert Franz inspiredTo write sweet songs of home and loveOf which we're never tired.

By sweet love, the angel's gift,

Was Robert Franz inspired

To write sweet songs of home and love

Of which we're never tired.

Since Schubert's time no other manProduced sweet songs so manyAnd for a number of these songsHe did not get a penny.

Since Schubert's time no other man

Produced sweet songs so many

And for a number of these songs

He did not get a penny.

Songs two hundred seventy-nineThis music genius wroteBut ere he died like BeethovenHe could not hear a note.

Songs two hundred seventy-nine

This music genius wrote

But ere he died like Beethoven

He could not hear a note.

And with his right arm paralyzedHe could not even playAnd Liszt for him gave concertsTo keep the wolf away.

And with his right arm paralyzed

He could not even play

And Liszt for him gave concerts

To keep the wolf away.

He died in abject poverty,From grief almost insaneBut left his songs to cheer usAnd drive away our pain.

He died in abject poverty,

From grief almost insane

But left his songs to cheer us

And drive away our pain.

NATURE'S MUSIC

Where is Nature's music heard?In hum of insect, song of bird,In wailing of the wind at night,In splashing of the wavelets brightIn angry howls when breakers roarAgainst the rocks upon the shore.'Tis in the Storm God's tearful moan;In human voices' every tone.When Jupiter his thunder rolls'Tis Nature's music bell that tolls,But only those with perfect earTrue sounds of Nature's Music hear.

Where is Nature's music heard?In hum of insect, song of bird,In wailing of the wind at night,In splashing of the wavelets brightIn angry howls when breakers roarAgainst the rocks upon the shore.

Where is Nature's music heard?

In hum of insect, song of bird,

In wailing of the wind at night,

In splashing of the wavelets bright

In angry howls when breakers roar

Against the rocks upon the shore.

'Tis in the Storm God's tearful moan;In human voices' every tone.When Jupiter his thunder rolls'Tis Nature's music bell that tolls,But only those with perfect earTrue sounds of Nature's Music hear.

'Tis in the Storm God's tearful moan;

In human voices' every tone.

When Jupiter his thunder rolls

'Tis Nature's music bell that tolls,

But only those with perfect ear

True sounds of Nature's Music hear.

FRÉDÉRIC FRANÇOIS CHOPIN

[Born at Zelazowa-Wola, near Warsaw, Poland—1809-1849.]

Though French blood flowed in Chopin's veinsHis music was of Polish strainsAs he was born in a Polish town,Which for its name should win renown;And Zelazowa-Wola stoodAbove all cities great and goodIn favor with great Chopin whoWas to his birthplace ever true.When scarcely eight great Fame beganTo court him ere he was a man.But Fate was cruel as well as kind.In love affairs he did not findThe comfort that his great soul soughtAnd which to him could have been broughtBy only one, a lady wise,George Sand, with "hazel, big cow eyes."Oft when we hear his waltzes sweet,"Come dance, come dance," call to our feet'Tis hard indeed for us to thinkThat Chopin oft stood on the brinkOf dreadful Melancholy's lair,Where in great anguish and despair,So sick in body, mind and soul,With only Death as his sure goal,Sweet and lively airs he wroteAnd filled with joy his every note.For ten long years the white plague soughtTo take his life—for health he fought,But when his sweetheart left his sideHe ceased his fight and soon he died.

Though French blood flowed in Chopin's veins

His music was of Polish strains

As he was born in a Polish town,

Which for its name should win renown;

And Zelazowa-Wola stood

Above all cities great and good

In favor with great Chopin who

Was to his birthplace ever true.

When scarcely eight great Fame beganTo court him ere he was a man.But Fate was cruel as well as kind.In love affairs he did not findThe comfort that his great soul soughtAnd which to him could have been broughtBy only one, a lady wise,George Sand, with "hazel, big cow eyes."

When scarcely eight great Fame began

To court him ere he was a man.

But Fate was cruel as well as kind.

In love affairs he did not find

The comfort that his great soul sought

And which to him could have been brought

By only one, a lady wise,

George Sand, with "hazel, big cow eyes."

Oft when we hear his waltzes sweet,"Come dance, come dance," call to our feet'Tis hard indeed for us to thinkThat Chopin oft stood on the brinkOf dreadful Melancholy's lair,Where in great anguish and despair,So sick in body, mind and soul,With only Death as his sure goal,Sweet and lively airs he wroteAnd filled with joy his every note.

Oft when we hear his waltzes sweet,

"Come dance, come dance," call to our feet

'Tis hard indeed for us to think

That Chopin oft stood on the brink

Of dreadful Melancholy's lair,

Where in great anguish and despair,

So sick in body, mind and soul,

With only Death as his sure goal,

Sweet and lively airs he wrote

And filled with joy his every note.

For ten long years the white plague soughtTo take his life—for health he fought,But when his sweetheart left his sideHe ceased his fight and soon he died.

For ten long years the white plague sought

To take his life—for health he fought,

But when his sweetheart left his side

He ceased his fight and soon he died.

THE GREATEST KINGS OF MUSIC LAND

The six greatest kings of sweet Music LandAre Beethoven, Mozart and Wagner the grand;Great Handel and Bach and Haydn as well,Who cast o'er the earth its musical spell.

The six greatest kings of sweet Music Land

Are Beethoven, Mozart and Wagner the grand;

Great Handel and Bach and Haydn as well,

Who cast o'er the earth its musical spell.

GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL

[Born at Halle in Saxony—1685-1759.]

Of all music masters of whom you've heard tellGreat Handel was happiest for he was well,Tall, handsome and wealthy, generous and kind,Cheerful in heart and clever in mind.Pinching dread poverty he never knew;Surrounded by comforts from childhood he grew;Though early in life as a very small ladHe wasn't content nor yet very gladBecause his stern father treated with scornHis belief that for music he had been born.Alone in an attic he practised each day;Without any teacher he learned how to playUntil he was heard by a good kindly duke,Who gave to Herr Handel a stinging rebukeAnd made him consent, this father so stern,That technique of music the young son should learn.To England George went when to manhood grown,Adopting this country as his very own.He was loved by the people of most every climeAnd busy and happy just all of the time.In days scarcely fifteen he wrote his greatSaul,And in nineteen more he had finished allOfIsrael in Egyptin whose every toneThe work of a master of music is shown.And in but two weeks 'tis said that he wroteHis wondrousMessiahcomplete in each note.But work without rest from morning till nightDeprived him, like Bach, of precious eye-sight.For seven long years great Handel was blind,But lost not his genius nor bright cheerful mind.He worked every hour until his last breathWas taken away by the cold Angel Death.His body in Westminster Abbey was laid,But the works of his genius will no, never fade.

Of all music masters of whom you've heard tell

Great Handel was happiest for he was well,

Tall, handsome and wealthy, generous and kind,

Cheerful in heart and clever in mind.

Pinching dread poverty he never knew;

Surrounded by comforts from childhood he grew;

Though early in life as a very small lad

He wasn't content nor yet very glad

Because his stern father treated with scorn

His belief that for music he had been born.

Alone in an attic he practised each day;

Without any teacher he learned how to play

Until he was heard by a good kindly duke,

Who gave to Herr Handel a stinging rebuke

And made him consent, this father so stern,

That technique of music the young son should learn.

To England George went when to manhood grown,Adopting this country as his very own.He was loved by the people of most every climeAnd busy and happy just all of the time.In days scarcely fifteen he wrote his greatSaul,And in nineteen more he had finished allOfIsrael in Egyptin whose every toneThe work of a master of music is shown.And in but two weeks 'tis said that he wroteHis wondrousMessiahcomplete in each note.

To England George went when to manhood grown,

Adopting this country as his very own.

He was loved by the people of most every clime

And busy and happy just all of the time.

In days scarcely fifteen he wrote his greatSaul,

And in nineteen more he had finished all

OfIsrael in Egyptin whose every tone

The work of a master of music is shown.

And in but two weeks 'tis said that he wrote

His wondrousMessiahcomplete in each note.

But work without rest from morning till nightDeprived him, like Bach, of precious eye-sight.For seven long years great Handel was blind,But lost not his genius nor bright cheerful mind.He worked every hour until his last breathWas taken away by the cold Angel Death.His body in Westminster Abbey was laid,But the works of his genius will no, never fade.

But work without rest from morning till night

Deprived him, like Bach, of precious eye-sight.

For seven long years great Handel was blind,

But lost not his genius nor bright cheerful mind.

He worked every hour until his last breath

Was taken away by the cold Angel Death.

His body in Westminster Abbey was laid,

But the works of his genius will no, never fade.

LUDWIG VON BEETHOVEN

[Born in Bonn, Germany—1770-1827.]

Life is a blossom of sorrow and funAnd Beethoven's sorrow was early begun.His father was cruel, no pleasure he had,No wonder that much of his music is sad.He lived in Vienna, which seldom he left;Of most earthly joys this poor soul bereft.The gods had deprived him of beauty of face,His manners atrocious brought him disgrace.No money had he and for many a yearOf music he loved no sound could he hear.No wife to adore him, no children had heTo bring to his home "The Good Fairy Glee."In rags and in sorrow and always aloneHe walked in the fields where, with pitying moan,He prayed he might hear the song of the treesAnd sweet fairy whispers as borne on the breeze.His prayers were not answered and no sound he heardOf brooklets or breezes or sweet singing bird.No wonder from earth he was glad to depart,Dying, 'tis said, from a real broken heart.

Life is a blossom of sorrow and fun

And Beethoven's sorrow was early begun.

His father was cruel, no pleasure he had,

No wonder that much of his music is sad.

He lived in Vienna, which seldom he left;

Of most earthly joys this poor soul bereft.

The gods had deprived him of beauty of face,

His manners atrocious brought him disgrace.

No money had he and for many a year

Of music he loved no sound could he hear.

No wife to adore him, no children had heTo bring to his home "The Good Fairy Glee."In rags and in sorrow and always aloneHe walked in the fields where, with pitying moan,He prayed he might hear the song of the treesAnd sweet fairy whispers as borne on the breeze.His prayers were not answered and no sound he heardOf brooklets or breezes or sweet singing bird.No wonder from earth he was glad to depart,Dying, 'tis said, from a real broken heart.

No wife to adore him, no children had he

To bring to his home "The Good Fairy Glee."

In rags and in sorrow and always alone

He walked in the fields where, with pitying moan,

He prayed he might hear the song of the trees

And sweet fairy whispers as borne on the breeze.

His prayers were not answered and no sound he heard

Of brooklets or breezes or sweet singing bird.

No wonder from earth he was glad to depart,

Dying, 'tis said, from a real broken heart.

JOHANNES BRAHMS

[Germany—1833-1897.]

Wagner once said "There are but three B'sIn musical circles known,Beethoven, Bach and Brahms the goodAs masters stand alone."Brahms's mother was a real old maidWhom his young father wed.In years full seventeen or moreShe well could rank ahead.But peace and love reigned in this homeAnd so Johannes grewInto a gentle kindly ladWho loved all whom he knew.When Schumann heard this boy playIn rapture he cried out—"Behold our new Messiah,For him the world should shout!"For many years this good man stoodAt Clara Schumann's sideWhile she was fighting povertyWhen her dear husband died.He helped her rear her children,With her in concerts playedAnd loved her with a pure true loveBy the immortal made.And when she died he had no wishTo live his life aloneAnd welcomed Death to come his wayAnd claim him as his own.

Wagner once said "There are but three B'sIn musical circles known,Beethoven, Bach and Brahms the goodAs masters stand alone."

Wagner once said "There are but three B's

In musical circles known,

Beethoven, Bach and Brahms the good

As masters stand alone."

Brahms's mother was a real old maidWhom his young father wed.In years full seventeen or moreShe well could rank ahead.

Brahms's mother was a real old maid

Whom his young father wed.

In years full seventeen or more

She well could rank ahead.

But peace and love reigned in this homeAnd so Johannes grewInto a gentle kindly ladWho loved all whom he knew.

But peace and love reigned in this home

And so Johannes grew

Into a gentle kindly lad

Who loved all whom he knew.

When Schumann heard this boy playIn rapture he cried out—"Behold our new Messiah,For him the world should shout!"

When Schumann heard this boy play

In rapture he cried out—

"Behold our new Messiah,

For him the world should shout!"

For many years this good man stoodAt Clara Schumann's sideWhile she was fighting povertyWhen her dear husband died.

For many years this good man stood

At Clara Schumann's side

While she was fighting poverty

When her dear husband died.

He helped her rear her children,With her in concerts playedAnd loved her with a pure true loveBy the immortal made.

He helped her rear her children,

With her in concerts played

And loved her with a pure true love

By the immortal made.

And when she died he had no wishTo live his life aloneAnd welcomed Death to come his wayAnd claim him as his own.

And when she died he had no wish

To live his life alone

And welcomed Death to come his way

And claim him as his own.

JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH

[Born at Eisenbach in Germany—1685-1750.]

In sixteen hundred eighty-fiveLong, long before you were alive,In the town of EisenbachWas born Johann Sebastian Bach.From his father ever kindAnd his brother he did findThe key to enter Music Land,Which he found so sweet and grand.No more industrious lad could beThan Johann, who loved "Industry.""The Mighty Master" he is knownOf the organ's every tone.Twice this music master wedAnd he was happy so 'tis said;But he worked both day and nightUntil at last he lost his sight.Though he was blind he cheerful keptAnd o'er his sorrow never wept,And when he died he left a son,To shine for him when his work was done.

In sixteen hundred eighty-fiveLong, long before you were alive,In the town of EisenbachWas born Johann Sebastian Bach.

In sixteen hundred eighty-five

Long, long before you were alive,

In the town of Eisenbach

Was born Johann Sebastian Bach.

From his father ever kindAnd his brother he did findThe key to enter Music Land,Which he found so sweet and grand.

From his father ever kind

And his brother he did find

The key to enter Music Land,

Which he found so sweet and grand.

No more industrious lad could beThan Johann, who loved "Industry.""The Mighty Master" he is knownOf the organ's every tone.

No more industrious lad could be

Than Johann, who loved "Industry."

"The Mighty Master" he is known

Of the organ's every tone.

Twice this music master wedAnd he was happy so 'tis said;But he worked both day and nightUntil at last he lost his sight.

Twice this music master wed

And he was happy so 'tis said;

But he worked both day and night

Until at last he lost his sight.

Though he was blind he cheerful keptAnd o'er his sorrow never wept,And when he died he left a son,To shine for him when his work was done.

Though he was blind he cheerful kept

And o'er his sorrow never wept,

And when he died he left a son,

To shine for him when his work was done.

FRANZ JOSEPH HAYDN

[Born in Rohrau, Austria—1732-1809.]

How often when a little chapOn Haydn's shoulders fell the strap.E'er he was six as if a manHis struggles with the world began.His parents could not write nor read.A cousin said, "I'll gladly feedAnd clothe young Joseph, who can singAnd to my pockets money bring."But little food he gave to himAnd plenty of the sharp peach limb.When Joe then lost his tuneful voiceHis cousin gave to him no choiceBut turned him out to earn his way—'Tis said he worked both night and day,And, working thus, young Haydn roseFar, far above his friends and foes.Rich he became and gained great fameWhile all musicians love his name.His greatest work wasThe CreationAnd artists of most every nationEver bow down at his kneeAs "Father of the SYMPHONY."

How often when a little chap

On Haydn's shoulders fell the strap.

E'er he was six as if a man

His struggles with the world began.

His parents could not write nor read.

A cousin said, "I'll gladly feed

And clothe young Joseph, who can sing

And to my pockets money bring."

But little food he gave to him

And plenty of the sharp peach limb.

When Joe then lost his tuneful voiceHis cousin gave to him no choiceBut turned him out to earn his way—'Tis said he worked both night and day,And, working thus, young Haydn roseFar, far above his friends and foes.

When Joe then lost his tuneful voice

His cousin gave to him no choice

But turned him out to earn his way—

'Tis said he worked both night and day,

And, working thus, young Haydn rose

Far, far above his friends and foes.

Rich he became and gained great fameWhile all musicians love his name.His greatest work wasThe CreationAnd artists of most every nationEver bow down at his kneeAs "Father of the SYMPHONY."

Rich he became and gained great fame

While all musicians love his name.

His greatest work wasThe Creation

And artists of most every nation

Ever bow down at his knee

As "Father of the SYMPHONY."

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